Intersecting Vector (Index Alpha)
Plot Summary Nalini Shah's case has concluded: though, she knew the truth from the start—it was obvious, and boring. But, she just couldn't help but find herself distracted from the task at hand...and it's for more than one reason. Her past, it seems, has caught back up with her in a way she believed was impossible. But is her past who she is, now? Or, is ''"Nalini Shah" ''her true identity? The choices these lives made have now made it impossible to avoid their paths intersecting. It is time to decide...or neither will walk away. Section 2 5:30 AM (Civilian Time), August 6, 2551 / New Mombasa, Earth As the speaker blasted, Nalini rolled off her bed and onto the floor, fumbling to activate a light that was already on. Forcing her eyes open, she caught the gaze of the woman sharing the space. Her eyes were wide with a mix of startled confusion and uncomfortable cringe, struggling to make sense of the racket that woke her from an alcohol induced slumber. Nalini paid her no mind as she stood and began to pray, swaying back and forth in the partial dark. Her body was still valiantly fighting off the remaining tequila from the hour prior. “Uh, so...maybe I should get going?” the woman awkwardly interjected into Nalini’s prayer. She opened her eyes, cocked her head and looked sideways. This proved too much for her sense of balance, and she fell over and back onto the bed, laughing hysterically. “Agh, what? You scaaared? Pfft!” Nalini prodded, rolling to the center of the mattress to reach over the woman’s torso. She promptly felt her arm shoved off and the bed become empty. With her face down, she could only hear the woman’s feet hit the floor on the other side, knocking down empty bottles as she went. Nalini turned over just as the woman had already finished pulling her white shirt back on, and had begun to pull up her slacks from the floor. For the life of her, Nalini couldn’t remember how they had made it back to her apartmenr. But, with her memory was fresh from their evening together, she giggled drunkenly and reached to grab the woman’s arm in a valiant attempt to pull her back. Her hand was swatted away, and the woman, frowning, stepped back out of reach. She might as well have been a planet away at that point. “You lied to me.” the woman whispered sternly, suddenly her senses clear, “You told me you weren’t practicing. You’re not supposed to be drinkin’ and shit during Ramadan. I don’t want to enable that—makes me look bad... Makes you look bad.” As she buttoned and zipped her pants, she pulled socks from her pocket, and looked back down at Nalini with a new emotion: resolve. “You can use someone else to rebel with—I don’t need your baggage.” “I-I-I’m not. Not. Pr-acts-itsing.” “Then what the hell was that?” Nalini thought very hard. “...Praying.” The woman rolled her eyes, “I’m calling a cab. Good night.” Nalini lay drunkenly staring at the ceiling. She liked the gal before, but now it seemed like she was a bit on the sensitive side for some reason? What’s the deal? After a decidedly indecisive moment, Nalini sat up quickly, her long dark hair flying over her face in a mess, and her head suddenly spinning from moving too quickly. She belched and called after the woman. “Cou’ ahh least get yer contact? May-bwee can ge’some coffee tomorrow? Huh? Whuddaya’ say?” Silence. The woman stuck her head back through Nalini’s door a moment later, her short blond hair now pulled back, and her once smudged mascara wiped from her eyes and cheek revealing the expected continuation of her peach-white skin beneath. A stupid smile spread across Nalini’s face. The woman shook her head, no hint of drunkenness about her. “What’s my name, hun?” Nalini stared blankly. She sighed, laid back down, and pulled the pile of covers over her head. “Door’ll lock behind ya’. Don’ forget you’shit.” ---- The unforgiving sun had only enhanced Nalini’s hefty dose of regret. Her visor was doing its best, but even the filtered light hurt her temple, throbbing to the muffled beat of the auto-cab’s tires meeting the pavement as it sped her to work. She had stopped briefly that morning at an OptiCan kiosk for a double dose of Electrolytol, and a plasma booster to stave off what had become an intensely epic hangover. But, it was too late. The roots of pain had already firmly planted in her skull overnight, and had since grown into sickening blossoms of face-numbing nausea. In the heat of the Mombasan sun, she began to think that the events of the evening had probably enacted a just revenge: guilting her handedly into wearing a hijab to her office, on top of all else. She seldom wore a hijab—maybe ten days a year at most—but today, the hottest day of the year, was the day she wore one. She couldn’t decide if she was being rightly punished and/or was learning a valuable lesson in hydration and overindulgence...but mulling it over made her head spin so she left the thought unresolved. As she stepped from her auto-cab into the bustling streets of the business district, she could already see clearly the chaos she had wrought in her wake. Through the storefront window to her office, she could make out her secretary, Mark, floundering with the combination of general telecalls and one Mister Domena (the client she was scheduled to meet an hour earlier). Her AI attendant, Stella, must have “seen” her coming, as the office doors opened wide for her entrance, a rare amenity from the electronic assistant. Immediately Domena set upon her. “Ms. Shah!” he grumbled through his thick, stained, gray mustache—the smell of tobacco hanging densely on his breath, “This is terribly unprofessional!” The many wrinkles on his furrowed brow, the hairs from his crumpled nose, and the bags under his glaring eyes told the whole story: he was old. More importantly, as Nalini had noted on several occasions: he was damn annoying. “Mr. Domena, so happy to see you!” She took off her visor, immediately regretting her decision as the fluorescent lights blinded her with pain. “I wasn’t feeling well this morning, but I am well now.” She lied, “Let's discuss the matter in my office, hmm?” “Let’s indeed.” He clucked, “I am going to be late to a meeting! Time is money, Ms. Shah. I will be docking this from your check! I am a busy man!” Nalini smiled and nodded and smiled some more. The old bastard would sooner forget her inconvenience as soon as her consultation began, so she paid him no mind. She glanced to her side, and caught Mark staring across the receptionist counter with strained eyes. She nodded in thanks. “His file’s on your pad. You owe me a longer lunch today.” he sighed. “Sure, just have Stella load the images for Domena to take with him before you run away.” “Aye aye, Cap!” he saluted exaggeratedly, before answering another call. She rubbed her temples, and took a deep breath before following Domena into her office. Vago Domena was a local businessman—he owned a courier service that provided deliveries all across New Mombasa, Southern Africa, as well as up and down the tether. He had “space money”, which made him a great client, and an even greater target for leeches. Divorced at least seven times, from what he had told Nalini over the years, he had grown tired of paying out for separation when he believed he was being duped (which he usually was). His weakness, as Nalini had observed many times, wasn’t so much that he had an affinity for dating women several decades younger than his age, but that most of them were simply appeasing him in order to get to his money—a fact which he either chose to ignore, or he was just plain oblivious to. Domena had in time, however, learned to not trust even his most affectionate and lovely mistresses. That’s why he was there. Months ago, he had again sought Nalini’s private investigative services when he had come to suspect the latest in his long list of fiancées of cheating on him. Hellbent on avoiding another nasty, costly divorce, he commissioned Nalini to confirm this, and she was more than happy to oblige. She had done several small corporate investigations for him in the past, but nothing quite like this before—definitely nothing which touched upon his messy personal life. She was moving on up in the world, it seemed, and if this investigation was any indicator of what she was to expect from Domena in the future, he would certainly return to her again if he deemed this a “job well done”. With Domena’s backing, Nalini was given a budget to tail his socialite fiancée, Marigold Astor, to several establishments of varying class across the region. Drinks, boarding, cab fare: it was all taken from his account, with few to no questions asked as long as she produced results. She had been able to expertly balance work, drink, and bed for the duration—the prior night only her latest foray into New Mombasa’s thriving and diverse community. Was it ethically sound to drink and sleep around on his budget? Probably not...but, as Domena was an outwardly vocal homophobe, Nalini was hardly conflicted with the ethics of it all. She just made sure to avoid the plain reality in conversation with him—the less he knew the better. “Ms. Shah,” he turned and nodded to her as the door shut behind her, “we must get down to details. I must know the truth about Marigold.” As she sat down, crossing her legs and picking up her datapad, she made way to her file on the future “Mrs. Domena”. She took an exaggeratedly deep breath, and put on her most understanding face, making sure to give the poor bastard a “warning sigh” to indicate things were not all well. Domena clasped his hands together in anticipation, realistically already aware of what the truth was. “Well, Mr. Domena, as we have discussed on prior consultations, my suspicions were more or less confirmed.” She paused to give Domena a moment to process this, but he simply shook his head and cursed under his breath. He wasn’t surprised—neither was she. She turned her tablet around, showing him images she had captured the evening prior. “As you can see,” she pointed to the image of who she assumed would now be his ex-fiancée “she is with the same woman from the prior instances I had recorded for you.” Nalini touched the screen, and a vid played. In vivid detail Vago watched his fiancée, Marigold, embracing with a woman with short blond hair, a white shirt and slacks. Both of the women were shown in a green light of the camera lens, an outline showing the contours of their forms in the dark club. As she flipped to the next vid, Marigold kissed the cheek of the blonde woman, and walked away. She turned her tablet back to herself, and continued to thumb through her documents. “Unlike the prior months” she continued, “where she had been very cordial and reserved with that individual, in the last month there have been many different occasions where I recorded the two partaking in more physical PDA. At least on two occasions they retire to that woman’s apartment. There’s also the question of these two men...” She set down her pad, and looked to the very angry Domena, busy flaring his nostrils and wringing his hands. “I’m sorry Mr. Domena, but it seems your hunch was right.” ---- It was dark by the time Stella finally appeared on her holo-tank, having been absent all day—at least visually. Stella’s job was one which emphasized an immense amount of background work with the office’s computer protocol: returning calls, ensuring bills were paid, and checking that permit fees were maintained and statuses updated. Nalini was one of less than a hundred Private Investigators in the East African Protectorate who held dual permits in Concealed Firearms and the extremely sought after PRIDA permit. The PRIDA, or Privately Deputized Agent permit, which allowed for Nalini to arrest individuals within the course of a Private Investigation was, put simply, a legitimate and traceable civilians arrest permit. Of course, the PRIDA required authorization with the EAP Justice System, which is where Stella shone her brightest. She was designed to keep that lane open, and maintained during the course of all of Nalini’s investigations. She had even in the past led to capturing individuals whom were fugitives from the law in the course of Nalini's otherwise unrelated investigations. It was a rare occasion if Nalini had to use this permit, but the instances often involved weapons—again, making the dual permits that much more important to her riskier work. With Stella’s help, the permit paid for themselves. However, that was neither here nor there: Stella was an assistant AI— “dumb”. Whatever character she had was artificial in the classic sense: human influenced...she had appeared not out of care for Nalini, but out of a programmed necessity to check on her human master. Her avatar, one which Nalini had designed, was of a woman scientist, clip-board in arm, hair in a bun, and coat white and pristine—a hue of yellowish-white about her. “Miss Shah, you have more than made up for the hours you missed today. In your condition, you might consider retiring—I can close the office for you this evening, if you would like?” Nalini sighed, and rubbed her temple. She was still nursing a smaller remnant headache, one she imagined a painkiller or a drink might fix. Even if Stella was badly programmed to make her feel some relief, it was working. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” She grumbled. She had worked through and ignored several prayers already, and was feeling the weight of the Hijab as it were being turned to lead via guilt. She pulled it off, and bowed her head, talking to whoever it was she was trying to impress all day. “''Look, maybe I’m going about this all wrong. If you have patience and love like you’re supposed to...well, I’m gonna’ to need some of that. Maybe I’m just not going to fit this cookie cutter—''” “Miss Shah?” Stella interrupted Nalini’s internal prayer. “Yes,” she answered exasperated, “I’m on my way, Stella... Thanks.” The street outside the office of Shah and Partners was lit only by the road lights and advertisement boards brightly shining a few stories above the building. Stella closed the door behind her, and the lights inside went off immediately. She had rejected Stella’s suggestions for an auto-cab—she chose instead to walk to the nearest OptiCan kiosk a block away to finish off her ill-feelings. She opened her satchel, and stuffed her hijab on the top, careful to not cover her access to her M6C pistol. She pulled her suit coat over the shoulder strap of the bag, making swiping nearly impossible—she couldn’t afford to have a pickpocket take her weapon, or she would certainly lose her license. Alternatively, she had wronged some of the right people in her time as PI. She had convinced herself long ago it would be crazy for her to not stay armed at all times. Realistically, though, violence and petty theft was almost unheard of in that district. She was just paranoid. The Business District had died down only slightly as the heat of the day turned into a comfortably warm night. Nalini passed dozens of people who were dressed to enjoy the nightlife the district offered. Most, she recognized, where roughly her age—late-teens and twenty-somethings out to enjoy the blissful wonders of youth. She felt embarrassingly out of place in her synthread pantsuit, and considered putting her hijab back on to hide her face in a half-hearted attempt to make the nameless strangers think she was following some personal credo. This came from a place of insincerity that she tried not to feed into if she could. She didn’t truly care, and neither did they. But, she couldn’t shake the feeling of needing to sink away. Anxiety came rushing in, and she nearly stopped at the liquor store around the corner from her office. She kept walking. When Nalini drank it often ended as badly as it did for her today. Missed calls, missed appointments, missed opportunities. But she drank anyway. She had a good grasp on controlling when it was she would. Once she started, though, she didn’t know how to say “no”. She had paid for the habit time and again, letting hurtful people into her life—the all too prevalent bloodsucker, a common pest, who wanted only her attention and touch without the attachment or care. She had almost begun in recent weeks to see in herself the clueless Vago Domena. The difference being, instead of money, she bled confidence. Her heart ached at the thought. Besides Mark and Stella, she had no real friends. She shuddered. No, she reasoned, that’s only half true. She had good friends—great friends, even—she had just lost them so many years ago. She was smart enough to recognize that the booze was just a symptom of the loneliness and dejection she felt; unfortunately it also came with an endless amount of confused and hurt feelings. She couldn’t begin to count how many partners she had drunkenly brought to her place or how many and taken her to theirs. She just didn’t know anymore. She had even forgotten names of girlfriends—ones she believed were the answer to her happiness, once upon a one night stand. She was a secret mess, but she thought she hid it well. Mark knew, but that was a given. Today just happened to be one of those rare occasions where she slipped up just enough for it to throw people under the bus. She sighed anxiously, a shiver in her voice. On one hand, she was the successful Nalini Shah, Private Detective—the go to detective for billionaire Vago Domena and several other local corporations. On the other hand she was Nalini Al-Hariri—Orphaned daughter to Saad and Jena Al-Hariri, UNSC designation Spartan-B099. Spartan washout, she reminded herself promptly. One of these people had a chance at success and stability in their life. the other, however, refused to stay in the abyss and would rather claw its way out and take the other’s future with it into the wreckage. Tonight was going to be one of those nights. It wasn’t unheard of for her to be stricken with melancholia and insomnia. Ever since she had parted from her friends, she couldn’t escape the episodes. The truth which she feared would become unbearable just wouldn’t stay away. At its worse, she would have to rock herself to sleep, repeating over and over that she was, indeed, "Nalini Shah", praying she would finally be convinced. But she knew she was lying. She knew she was Nalini-B099, and nothing else mattered to her. The implication was dire. As she walked through the crowd, she felt her face going pale, and she tripped over herself and fell into a passerby. She was faint, but she kept walking, pushing off the man and continuing on, drawing partially concerned looks from the people she nearly fell into. When she finally reached the OptiCan terminal at the corner, her hands were shaking violently, and her vision was blurred—she was sweating profusely. “Hey?” Nalini swung around. She could only make out a blur, but it was a familiar blur. “''You''?” She slurred. The blur got closer to Nalini, and set a hand on her arm. A blond woman—her hair pulled back just as it was when she left the night earlier. “You know, I have a name...Are you drunk again?” Nalini propped herself up straight on the kiosk as her vision cleared. “No...No, I’m not—” She stopped stammering, and looked at the woman in her eyes, her gaunt face looking on with slight concern. “Lis. Lis Vollon is your name.” “Do you know your name?” “Very funny.” Nalini’s legs righted themselves, and she felt blood returning to her face. Lis, or “the woman from prior instances”, was the woman with whom Domena’s fiancée, Marigold, had been leading a secret life. But, that ended last night. With her case complete, and Marigold’s future sealed, Nalini took a chance at properly meeting the other woman she had been watching for so long. She considered it a long shot, anyway. Nalini had watched how Lis had acted for weeks, and she had taken a liking to her mannerisms. Lis, of course, couldn’t have known that Marigold was Domena’s to-be-wife with the amount of time Marigold spent with her; she was as in the dark as Domena was. Nalini felt sorry for the gal, and eventually she lost interest in the cheating case entirely. She knew the first day that Marigold was cheating—hell, she knew before she even saw her, knowing Domena’s history. But, she needed evidence, and thus began her hobby with watching Lis, with a little work on the side. Lis Vollon was superficially a lot of things Nalini liked in a woman: she was strong, but she could be elegant. She was excited by simple things, and simple people and she didn’t seem to require much. She was an avid flower picker and marveller of leaves; she would even stop dead in her tracks to watch birds for minutes at a time—a sort of naive nature that twisted Nalini's stomach in knots. It was hokey and childlike...but it was cute. Nalini liked her. All of these things, however, appeared to spit in the face of who she was with. Marigold was a curt, frivolous, and expensive person. She couldn’t see what Lis saw in her and she quickly became jealous. It was a disaster in the making. She blushed. She had clearly become infatuated with the idea of Lis. She had spent a month daydreaming plots to insert herself between Lis and Marigold. She wanted badly to shoot for the Moon, but she settled on shooting vid and images of the two enjoying themselves and their lives. It wasn’t meant or supposed to be. It shouldn't be. But... But on the last day, she drank. On the last day, she lied. On the last day the daydream became a reality, and what a messy reality it had become. Lis smiled. “You don’t need to be embarrassed—look, we all have a bit too much to drink every once and awhile, right hun?” She looked at Nalini’s hand, and took it. It was still shaking slightly. Nalini pulled away, and turned to the kiosk. “I was just about to get something for my head... been throbbing all day.” Nalini tried to change the subject. The OptiCan kiosk chimed, and after scanning Nalini’s palm dispensed more Electrolytol and an Anti-Anxiety med. She blushed even more. “Yeah, so, it was nice to see you but I—” “Wait, wait—” Lis grabbed Nalini’s hand again, firmly, “Look, I actually was out here looking for you...this is not just a wild coincidence.” Nalini cocked an eyebrow. Lis smiled, and waited for Nalini’s response, her hand tight around Nalini’s. “That right?” She finally, dryly, responded. “Yeah! I just thought you might have gone home to break your fast, so I’m actually surprised! Pleasantly!” She nudged Nalini with her elbow suggestively, “Guess you aren’t really practicing all that well, huh?” Nalini smiled shyly, “...I mean, I try... “ “Oh? Oh! I’m sorry! I’m really bad at this. Here:” She stepped closer, brushing her bosom suggestively against Nalini, and she whispered into her ear, “I’m trying to ask you out for coffee, and I’m failing. How about it? We can talk about...you know, maybe patching things up a bit with a little less booze in your system?” She was asking her on a date? After last night? The internal debate began and ended swiftly. Nalini let Lis lead her into the night. ---- Nalini thought they would stop by a local business district coffee shop, but after Lis took Nalini by the arm and dragged her into an auto-cab, it was apparent that was not happening. The cab made its way to the major East-West highway, and then onto the Seafront Highway with the bridge to “Old” Mombasa coming into view. Nalini finally cleared her throat after listening to Lis talk about her day from front to back, unable to get a word in edgewise. The whole time, her arm was linked with Nalini’s tightly as she rested her head on her shoulder. Nalini couldn’t move without stirring Lis. “So, uh...where are we headed?” Nalini asked tentatively, “I was thinking we were going to be in the business district—not that I don’t mind driving home.” But I’m going to if I have to drive this far, she thought. Marigold may be done with Domena, but Nalini knew full well that she wasn’t done with Lis. Lis was risking something to spend time with Nalini, and she was uncomfortable with that. In fact, she was beginning to have a strong sense of Déjà vu, and couldn’t pin down the reason why. In fact, she just felt generally hazy—she regretted not heading home, she needed to rest. This was a bad idea, and she knew it. Lis chuckled, and looked at Nalini with a toying gaze. This was the first good look Nalini had given Lis since they met. Her hair was recently cleaned, and her face was padded with fresh makeup and mascara, similar to how it was when they met the night before—in fact, she was sure it was done exactly as it had been done before. Her eyes fluttered playfully as Nalini studied her, and her stomach filled with butterflies. Her face was beautiful, but it it was uncanny how beautiful it was. The fact that she was so instantly smitten was almost scary. “‘Agh, what? You scaaared?’” Lis said in her best faux-drunken voice, giggling as she did, her other hand now on Nalini’s knee. Nalini forced a smile. The way that Lis touched and talked to her was similar to ways she had been treated before; it was the touch of someone who wanted something not someone. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable; she felt inserted into something she wasn’t meant to be in. It didn’t seem real. A normal person might miss the cues, but Nalini wasn’t entirely normal. She now sensed something was very off, something she wouldn’t have sensed the night before, but she couldn’t think straight. Her mind felt like it was shutting down, and her heart seemed to nearly stop when Lis reached over to caress her face, turning Nalini’s to hers. It just didn’t feel right. She was supposed to be enjoying this, but she couldn’t. She wanted it to stop. “I don’t…” Nalini couldn’t finish her sentence as her throat went dry and her arms went completely numb. Even if Nalini had been watching Lis unawares like she had, even if that had been arguably creepy and unethically sound as a PI—as much as she hated to admit that—she didn’t know this woman. Lis had only just met Nalini hours ago and was pushing herself onto Nalini like they had a history. As Lis caressed her face, her eyes darted to the hand that Lis had never let go. A needle. Nalini’s body had turned to stone, and Lis finally let go. Nalini was completely numb, and could only manage to groan in denial as Lis as she began to kiss her neck, and making her way to her ear playfully. The whole time, her eyes the next needle. Her neck suddenly stung. “It’s ok. Don’t say anything.” Lis whispered coldly. She couldn’t. Nalini’s face was flush with worry. She wanted out. Even with the ruse over, Lis caressed her. Nalini fought to say “no”, but as she was stuck outside of her body looking in—her brain was fighting for answers, but it could only throw up walls. Then, Lis crawled over Nalini, one hand with yet another needle, the other reaching her thigh. She wanted to scream. She couldn’t stop her. The last needle pricked her right above her clavicle. Lis dropped the needle, and kissed Nalini’s forehead. “Go to sleep.” As Lis’s face pulled away from Nalini’s gaze, Mombasa Bay came into view, fully illuminated in moonlight as it churned far below the bridge leading to the old city. Somehow, while looking, she fell from the heights of bridge into the cool blue waters that lay below. Finally, she was away from Lis. She came back to the surface, tread water, and looked about for land. Nearby, on the white sands of the shore, she saw as clear as day two people standing and watching her. It was her parents. She wouldn’t believe it! They waved and called out to her enthusiastically. She couldn’t hear them over the sounds of the churning bay, so she swam immediately towards them. She couldn’t wait to see them—it had been so long. When she looked up again, she had hardly moved. She frantically paddled, but the shore got farther away with each stroke she made. She yelled to them, but her voice made no sound. Eventually, they stopped waving and calling for her. Nalini called to them, but she remained mute. With looks of sadness, they disappeared. She screamed and she made no sound—she wanted to cry, but no emotions came. Then she began to sink. Her arms came to her sides, too heavy to lift, and her legs stopped kicking as if they had been turned off. She had turned to stone. She looked back as her body fell farther away from the surface. Her parents were standing on the water above her. They looked down, as if through a glass floor, and shook their heads sadly. She cried for them to stay, but her voice never came. They disappeared into the wind. She sunk farther down. Then, in the next moment, her Spartan Team appeared beside her in the black abyss of the deep waters. They gave her looks of hope. They beckoned her to fight. One by one, they appeared and reached out, placing a hand upon her shoulders and encouraging her to not give in. Then, she saw them: the one she had dreaded the most to see. “Get up.” They spoke so clearly the world about her rumbled violently and her team turned to sand. They were gone. Her limbs loosened from their unknown binds, and Nalini spun herself towards the surface. Her parents were back, and her father knelt down on the water's surface. He reached out to her and smiled encouragingly. She swam back up, hard, and the surface closed in. As she got closer, she could now see their faces clearly. They were beaming with joy. She called out, and her voice rasped hoarsely and quietly. “Papa.” As her fingers touched her father's, reality collapsed. The crescent moon above his head faded last before the world went completely black. ---- “أعوذُ بِكَلماتِ اللَّهِ التَّامَّاتِ من شرِّ ماخلقَ ، لم يضُرَّهُ حُمةٌ تلكَ اللَّيلةَ” “I seek refuge in the perfect words of God from the evil of the Creator.” ---- Nalini came to. She gasped—she felt like she had just awoken from drowning, and coughed instinctively, but she was fine. Groggy, but fine. She first was able to make out a sign on the brick wall: Old City Cafe. The place was empty, almost as if they had closed an hour ago, it’s door locked, and it’s curtains pulled. A barista, however, was behind their counter, and the Cafe’s lights were on as if they were expecting business. Lis nonchalantly walked over to Nalini’s booth, cups of coffee for the two of them in each hand. She sat down across from Nalini and pushed a ceramic mug in front of her. Nalini pushed the coffee back—she had been drugged once already, and wasn’t planning on it happening again. Lis chuckled and brought her mug to her mouth. “So?” Lis asked between sips, “what do you think?” Nalini looked around the place. It was dingy, but it might have been that way intentionally. From what she gathered from the structure of the building, they were just inside of Old Mombasa. The brick was worn polycrete, a common material within a few city blocks of the bridge. The barista had stepped from his bar, and made his way to the shop window. He turned and smiled at Nalini as he watered dying plants with a craft of old coffee. Nalini continued to look about the room, and with one hand under the table she took inventory. Her suit was still on, and her bag was still over her shoulder. She gathered she had only been out for a short time, maybe five to ten minutes at most. It was not enough time to cut the bag loose from underneath her suit, but more than enough time, if they were professionals, to check her for weapons. Her eyes eventually came back to the table and Lis’s smug, lovely face greeted her with a smirk, watching over her cup contemplatively. “It’s my place—I co-own it. Manny stayed open for us when I told him we were coming. He’s a good guy, supports me in what I do. It’s getting pretty serious.” She winked at the barista. Manny chuckled from across the room, and blew Lis a kiss, which she pretended to catch and throw to the floor. He waved at her dismissively. Nalini frowned. “Cute.” Lis leaned back into the booth, and set her cup down. Nalini did the same. They looked at each other for a long time, neither of them having a thing to say. Nalini saw now that Lis got a kick out of all of this. She was a predator...but was she more than that? Was she a professional? Nalini felt the side of her bag, searching the outside of the cloth material for the outline she hoped remained. After what seemed like an eternity, Lis finally spoke up. “You know why I brought you here?” Lis asked. “Not because you want another go at me, right?” Nalini’s brow furrowed. Manny stepped back behind the bar, his smile gone. He placed both of his palms on the counter and stared intensely at the two of them. Lis chuckled, all sense of playfulness gone. “Good guess, Sherlock.” she tapped her forehead mockingly, “When did you figure that out?” “Look, if you want my money—” “Hush now, I don’t want your money. I want you.” “You lost me.” Lis, still leaning back grabbed Nalini’s mug in what was likely meant to be a power move, and took a long gulp. Nalini shook her head, and Lis sighed. “Would you believe me if I told you that we’ve been looking for you for years?” Nalini’s heart began to race, and the room slowed down. She unlatched her bag slowly, and quietly. Neither of them heard the metallic click. “We?” Lis, leaned out, and looked towards the kitchen door behind Nalini. She waved over someone, and simultaneously Manny dragged out an MA series rifle of some kind, an older one, and rest it on the counter with it’s barrel trained it on Nalini. The rifle had some sort of makeshift suppressor on it—a sort of rigid oil-can or the likes. The list of suspects dropped tenfold—she wasn’t dead yet, and that was more than enough to purge any reason to believe her PI work had incurred this wrath. Business people were either cowards or spineless. This was something else entirely. She looked behind her and, while confused, was enlightened. She greeted the new player. “Marigold.” Marigold Astor strolled past Nalini in a grey professional suit and skirt, and pulled a chair from a neighboring table, placing it at the end of the booth while still leaving Manny room to blow Nalini’s head across the wall. Marigold was a tall woman, almost as tall as Nalini at just under two meters, and her skin was also a similar shade of almond. The differences ended there. She playfully ran a hand through her curly hair, and sat down, crossing her legs confidently. She was all smiles, her dark red lipstick an exclamation on a smooth, spotless face which hid her maturity. No wonder, Nalini again considered, Domena fell for her so easily. “I have waited” her silvery voice cutting the air ,“for this moment for a long time, Nalini.” “Your standards must be as low as mine.” Nalini shot a glance across the table. Lis’s demeanor was no longer one intent on keeping Nalini’s interest—she was sternly listening to Marigold; a loyal footsoldier, it seemed, as she ignored Nalini. The picture became clearer still. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it, baby.” Marigold leaned in, uncrossing her fingers, and reaching towards Nalini’s hair. Nalini moved her head away, tired enough of being touched for one day. “Oh, that’s not fair now, right? Put a little booze in you, and you can’t keep your hands to yourself” She leaned back, with exaggerated disappointment before smiling sinisterly again. “Of course, you’re probably saving me from getting a hand full of sand and grease, huh?” Nalini’s eye twitched. It seemed she shared more with Domena than she thought. “I want to go.” “But you just got here!” She leaned back again, and pointed to Lis. “You know, we have yet to give this girl credit! She’s been putting on a hell of a show for you, you know that? She’s pure honey, this girl.” She laughed earnestly, “She has a file on you right on down to how long to cut her hair, what things to take interest in passing—Domena paid for her new nose, too! I mean,” she paused, “sure, he didn’t know, but that’s beside the point.” Marigold crossed her arms as she chuckled. She looked longingly at Lis. “It’s a shame things didn’t work between us. She’s really a woman of her craft, and she’s going to be quite the cutthroat someday.” “Thank you, Ms. Astor.” Lis obediently nodded. That settled it, Nalini conferred with herself, she knows everything about everything. She stared down Marigold silently, and Marigold clicked her tongue in mock disappointment. “You know, I was hoping you might be more open with us, B099...that is your designation, right?” Nalini didn’t respond to the question. That information was classified top-secret. “Who are you people?” she deflected. “And after all these years,” Marigold ignored Nalini, “here’s the Spartan who was left behind—the one we’ve been looking for.” Nalini shifted in her seat, moving her bag closer to her side. “And who told you I was a Spartan?” “Ah, that won’t matter.” She waved at Nalini dismissively, “Let’s just say that it’s easier to come by someone transferred out instead of in. You’re a member of a very exclusive club of losers: the ones who couldn’t make it. But, you know what darling?” Marigold cooed soothingly, her elbows propping up her head as she leaned towards Nalini, “I know what it feels like to be a loser. I’ve been losing all my life to the people who took your life away from you. ‘Nalini Al-Hariri’ you were—not even starting primary schooling when they took your name, and sentenced you to a life of anonymity and killing. And then they even took that.” Lis pulled something from her pockets, and placed it on the table. Marigold bent her head over slightly and eyed the data-crystal. “Want to tell me about that?” Nalini knew exactly what it was. It had been on her counter the night before. “It’s not mine.” She lied. Marigold put on an overly pouty face, and Lis put the data-crystal back in her pocket. “Oh, baby, don’t lie.” She sat back up and slapped Nalini in the face without warning. Nalini tasted blood, and spat on the table. Marigold reached inside her suit jacket, and pulled out a chrome magnum. She handed it to Lis, who promptly turned off the safety and charged the slide. “So, let’s start again. You,” Marigold pointed to Nalini, “have been tossed out on the curb by the UNSC. You don’t owe them anything, because they took it all from you. All I am offering to you is to make them pay. You just need to give me a little information about the fascists.” her voice suddenly boomed in the small room, “Their reach is never enough! We’re all expendable to them. You know this! I know this!” She calmed herself, realizing she was ranting. “So, Nalini, darling...please: tell me about these people. Tell me about this Ambrose and Dorota. Tell me you’ll go and meet with them so we can work together to hurt the Spartans for what they did—” The middle of the table exploded into fountain of splinters, and Lis’s coffee mug shattered, sending a dark brown mist into the air. The first round hit Lis in the sternum, and she looked so shocked her eyes nearly appeared to pop out of their sockets. She dropped the magnum immediately. The second round caught her in the eye and killed her instantly, sending Marigold screeching backwards into her seat, nearly tipping over as she pushed back from the booth. Manny, looking as surprised as Lis did, scrambled to charge the rifle as Nalini dove on top of Marigold. When the round was in the chamber, he took little time to fire indiscriminately over her head, and into the table next to them, snapping the wooden booth and shattering glass frames hanging on the wall. Marigold’s head slammed into the concrete floor, and her screams turned to groans, and scared grunts as Nalini fired back at the rifleman while holding Marigold’s face down against the ground. One of her last shots caught Manny in the arm, and he dropped his rifle completely. As she reached to her bag for another magazine, another man burst from the kitchen with an M7 SMG shouldered and ready to fire. He saw Nalini and aimed. She dropped the magazine and rolled sideways, pulling Marigold between them, her arm locked around her neck. The man held fire when Marigold screamed for him to stop, and Nalini immediately fired after the gunman as he ducked back into the kitchen. She only had one more round in her M6C, and with the other magazine out of reach, she could only take one of them. She let go of Marigold and kicked her in the back, and she immediately scrambled to her feet and ran towards the counter. The kitchen gunner popped back out when Marigold shrieked for him to shoot her. The front window of the cafe shattered as he swept his rounds towards Nalini, ripping apart a chair she had been next to a half-second before. Diving over the main counter, Nalini slammed into Manny, who had just stood back up due to Marigolds shrill orders. Nalini sent him hard onto the floor and wrapped her arms around his torso, pinning his to his sides. After a short struggle, she managed to bring her right arm to his head and blasted her last round through his head, blowing skull and brain across the floor. She rolled to grab his rifle as the other gunman jumped on top of the counter firing. She was ready for him. The last ten rounds in the magazine hit the man centermass, and he fell back and crashed to the floor out of view. The cafe became deadly silent with the exception of a few screams outside, and the approaching sound of distant sirens. Inside, all she could hear was the last gunman as his lifeless body rattled. It was only then, when she looked down and saw her wounds, that they hurt. “''Bastard''!” Two rounds had hit her in the leg and abdomen, and she couldn’t prop herself up without excruciating pain. Blood was seeping down her side, and mixed with the splatter from Manny’s head, her once tan suit had turned maroon with blood. She wasn’t walking out of the cafe on her own. “''Fuckin’ Astor'',” Nalini coughed blood, achingly attempting to stand up, “''you fuckin’ better stay right fuckin’ there''.” She pulled herself up the counter, and looked out into the room. Marigold was gone. “Fuck.” She set the empty MA on the counter, and hobbled over to the table, the magnum still there. It seemed that Marigold was more one to give orders than to bloody her hands herself. She picked up the magnum, and knew immediately it was empty. “''Or you’re just a lying bitch''.” she spat. She bent over Lis’s lifeless body, and reached into her pocket. The data-crystal was gone. She sighed and tossed the empty magnum onto the table, clattering as it went. Her vision began to blur, and so she sat down across from Lis. The side of her face that was still there stared in disbelief at the table. Nalini, painfully, leaned forward and grabbed her cup back, a bit of coffee still at the bottom. She poured it onto the floor. “''Sorry, Lis'',” Nalini coughed, “''you’re just not my type''.” ---- 10:00 AM (Civilian Time), September 7, 2551 / New Mombasa, Earth Mark stepped out the doors, and into the rain. He smiled. He enjoyed the warm, late summer storms and soon, it would be a constant through the final half of the year. He had already made a personal vow that he was going to soak in every last bit before he went off planet for the first time. He had always wanted to visit Reach and hike the Viery Trail, and, if Nalini kept her word, she might even pay for him and Angela to come and visit. He realized, at his age and income, that was something he might never get to do again. As he looked back down to Earth where his car was parked, Nalini looked on patiently under an umbrella. He snapped back to reality. “Sorry, got caught in my own little world.” He called after her. “It’s ok...I’m taking it all in, too.” she held her hand out from under the umbrella to feel the rain, “Couldn’t have asked for shittier weather...” She sighed, and held her side, a painful wince on her face. Mark stepped over and placed his arm around her torso and walked her back to his car, sensing it was time to move on. This was the final curtain call on Shah and Partners Private Inquiry, and he wouldn’t be anywhere but there to help see it through. Nalini was his best friend, after all, and he wanted to see her off. She needed the help, anyway, since she couldn’t lift anything without it hurting like hell. After helping her into the backseat, he hopped around the front and slammed his door shut as the rain picked up and pelted the exterior. He set the car to auto-drive, and he glanced in the mirror to check on Nalini. She watched the office intently until the car turned the corner, and it vanished from view. He turned his attention back to the road when he saw a tear race down her face, smothered quickly by a swiftly acting sleeve. This hadn’t been an easy decision for her. Nalini had decided a month ago to enlist in the war effort. After her run-in with the Insurrectionist cell leader Maya Astor, living under the cover of “Marigold Astor”, she appeared to change. She never struck him as a soldier type, but desperate times call for all sorts of people, he concluded. Something about her “''Showdown in Old Town''” as the bulletins called it, had changed her. Sure, they were walking away from a lot of money, too, but he didn’t mind. It became clear that the more stoic and thoughtful Nalini that came away from the fight was probably the truest Nalini he had met yet—and the most sober. But, the local hero status she gained and the prospective clients it attracted was the opposite of what she wanted. And so, to the service she went. He admired her for it. “Are you excited?” He finally asked after a few minutes of enduring the drumming of the rain. “Hmm? Oh. Yeah.” She turned to Mark and opened her mouth, but nothing came out. As they approached the bridge to the tether, she couldn’t say what she needed to. It was a bit too much. He understood. “You think you’ll see her?” Nalini stared dead ahead. He nodded in agreement. Nalini had confessed to him the night before that she wanted closure with someone from her past, and she was hoping to reconnect with them on Reach when she deployed. He thought about that the rest of the evening; it reminded him of his own life. He couldn’t help but talk her head off, now. It was what a friend would do. “You know,” Mark settled into his chair, reminiscently, “when me and Angela met we were really young. There was, you know, all these other girls my age that I cared and liked, but Angela was always a part of my life in a way that’s hard to describe. Like...I loved her then, but it was kid love, you know? Very naive and pure.” Nalini nodded, and looked out the side window away from him. Mark smiled. “But, you know what?” he continued, “We were apart for ten years after her family moved here. Our parents kept in touch but we never really spoke. But, one day, she, you know just reached out to me, out of the blue! Totally unexpected! It wasn’t really a confession of love or anything, either. In fact, it had nothing to do with love at all. She knew from her parents I was a professional clerk and an AI whisperer, and thought to get in contact for her work. So, one day, she just matter of factly offered me to sit in on an interview with her, after a decade apart, and I of course agreed, just for old time’s sake. “So I get there, I sit in on interviews, and after it all she wants to know what I thought and I was like, ‘Look, Angela’” Mark pointed towards the road sternly, “‘if you want this done right, hire someone who has experience with this field.’ and she, of course, is like ‘What? Do you think you can do it’? and, you know, the rest is history. I take the job, we catch up, and that kid love? We both kept it bottled up all those years, but it evolved into something deeper than that and, eventually we got to where we are now.” He turned to Nalini. “Now, I’m not saying that you moving out there means you’re going to find this girl, but you got to jump at these chances in life, right? You don’t want to wallow in regret for the rest of your life, you know?” She nodded silently, then faced Mark teary eyed, a weak smile on her face. She laughed softly. “Mark McGowan, you’re one of the good ones. Remember that, ok?” He nodded. The car rolled to a stop, and the rain let up just enough to not soak the both of them entirely through before they reached Nalini’s terminal. He sent his car off to park, grabbed Nalini’s bag, and ushered her towards her designated Maglev. Since the elevators were still a kilometer beyond the carport, first she had to catch the right train, and this would be where they parted. When they reached her platform, Mark began to look about for her UNSC recruitment officer she was to meet. But they weren’t there. “I don’t see them” Mark craned his neck over the crowd, “are we early?” He looked to his side and Nalini wasn’t there. He looked back and she had stopped a while back, and stood away from the platform. She waved him over. Eyebrow raised, he walked back. “You can leave the bag, here, Mark. I’m right where I’m supposed to be.” She calmly, explained. He dropped her bag, and stood with his hands on his hips. “You sure? Where’s your guy, the one with the—” “He won’t be here. Look—” she shifted to her left side, as to not put pressure on her healing leg, “I don’t have time to explain, but I want you to know how much your friendship has meant to me. It’s kept me going, but…” she paused, looking at the tether, again hanging on words like she had in the car. Finally, she found them. “Mark, I’ve been living a lie for so long, it’s become hard to tell the truth...I know now who I am. But, if I am going to be this person, this will be goodbye. I won’t see you again.” She appeared as stunned by what she said as Mark was, and coughed into her arm to avoid choking on her tears. He didn’t understand what she meant. But, that didn’t matter—he could tell she was being honest about whatever this was. He grabbed something from his pocket, knelt down, and shoved it into her duffel bag while she was turned away, trying to hide her tears from him. When she looked back, he zipped the bag shut again. “What did you—” “It’s for you. Don’t look until you unpack.” “Mark, I’m sorr—” “It’s ok, Nalini! It’s ok!” he smiled, “remember what I said: don’t let anything hold you back. You go win this war now, ok?—” She jumped out and hugged Mark around his torso. He was happy she was happy. He hugged her back, and did his best not to cry himself. As if from the ether, a grey uniformed man appeared beside Nalini from out of crowd. She let go of Mark, and separated from him. Mark didn’t understand the insignia on his uniform, but he read the name on his lapel: “DOROTA”. Dorota removed his hat, and addressed Nalini directly. “Nalini Al-Hariri?” he asked cautiously. Nalini cleared her throat, and her face changed. She turned briefly to Mark, and winked. Al-Hariri? Her transformation was instant, and it was one Mark would have had to see to believe. Her face became stone, and her body became ridgid. Her salute was precise. She had done this before. “Reporting.” “Come with me, Petty Officer. Welcome back.” Nalini grabbed her duffel bag off the ground, and threw it over her shoulder, no sign of pain on her face. She walked to her Maglev with the man, and Mark never saw her again. ---- [[Index_Alpha|'Return to Mother Article']] ---- Category:Stories Category:Short stories